The White Chrysanthemum
by Nightsmoke
Summary: The Varia finally meet someone who they cannot intimidate when a mission takes an unexpected turn.
1. I

All characters © Amano Akira

_Summary:_ The Varia finally meet someone who they cannot intimidate when a mission takes an unexpected turn.

* * *

><p><strong><em>The White Chrysanthemum <em>**

**_1._**

A young woman stepped out of the Venizia Santa Lucia, distinguishable from the other passengers only because her skin was untanned and she wore dark city clothes. Sasagawa Kyoko, 23, smiled in the resplendent Italian sun as it brought out the hidden reds and blondes in her hair. It was a rather large smile, giving that she had never thought this day would come. It was an auspicious occasion, not because it marked a holiday or a birthday or anything like that, but because it was the first time she was running business all by herself.

It felt wonderful, having no escort breathing down the nape of her neck or waiting outside every place she went into like human bulldogs. That wasn't to say she didn't love her family; Kyoko treasured their company like she would a really good chocolate eclair or the silk sheets covering her bed. However, omnipresence could be a bit daunting after eight unrelenting years of it. Even Haru could be exhausting at times, and men weren't the only creatures who needed their space (although half the time Kyoko surmised they believed just that).

Kyoko checked her bag again to make sure the Gavani ring was tightly secured inside. In all actuality, she could care less about the nature of the business. Mafia heirloom, hefty value, authentic ambiguity, personal delivery. As they said on _Seinfeld,_ yadda yadda yadda.

The basics were really all she needed to know. And the Varia, believe it or not, were pros at determining the authentic value of objects (Tsuna reminded her wearily of this point when describing how it had supposedly taken Xanxus five seconds to declare Basil's rings fake at the ring battles).

Kyoko's grin widened when she recalled the long struggle just to get them to let her make the trip alone. It had taken some time to finally convince her family, since no one in their right mind would let Kyoko within 100 miles of the Varia. Plus, Sasagawa Kyoko's name was rising in the underworld as the Vongola Decimo's girl, and was a name in which rivaling families attached an eloquent title of "Ransom Bait" to the end of. She had weapons and mace and whatnot, but she was not a fighter (despite her moderate training in capoeira). On top of that, Kyoko was pretty; a target even for predators outside the mafia circle who lusted for shapely Asian women.

Sure, there was danger, but what was life without it? Kyoko had gone to Hibari, who, predictably, backed her up since independence was his middle name. That is a story for another time and place, but together, the two of them had managed to convince Tsuna to let her go. It had taken one month, several bruises, a broken tonfa, a sedative, and a boxing match that employed at least six illegal moves. There was also the hoarse voice on Kyoko's behalf. It was the first time she could recall that she had lost her temper.

But in the end, she had won. It had been a victory for her, and one of many she foresaw in the near future.

As the taxi zipped through sublime Neapolitan scenery, Kyoko ran through the routine in her head, along with the little reminders and warnings that everyone had given her. She suppressed another smile, realizing that the reminders were more extensive than the job directions themselves. Overprotective, thy name is Vongola.

The Varia knew Japanese well enough, since part of their prerequisites was to have no less than seven languages under their belt, meaning Kyoko only needed minimal Italian to navigate the landscape. However, thanks to the time spent with the Vongola (and those private tutoring sessions with Reborn and Bianchi), Kyoko knew a lot more than she needed, which was always great leverage to have in case the Varia tried to use the language barrier against her.

She had been instructed to deal mainly with Lussuria and Xanxus. Lussuria was the most amiable of the bunch, and Gokudera pointed out that since Lussuria wasn't into women, dead or alive, Kyoko would be fine. She was to sit with her legs crossed the entire time, not proclaim anything to be cute, and to not say the word "blood" in Belphegor's presence under any circumstances. Kyoko knew enough about the Varia once she had been informed that they were not in fact sumo wrestlers, and she felt more excitement than anxiety. It was even making her woozy.

Her first test began at the front door.

It was an ornate thing, fabulously opulent in its oakwood glory complete with gleaming brass lion's heads. But the door wasn't so much a problem as who answered it, which happened to be Fran. Fran was perhaps the only Varia member with remotely any experience in dealing with women; years with Chrome and M.M had thrown him into somewhat of the annoying little brother role. The only problem with talking to Fran was that in the presence of strangers, Fran tended to put out as much response as a brick wall. Hence, he didn't throw down a particularly colorful welcome mat. But Kyoko would not falter.

"Sasagawa Kyoko?" Fran intoned, staring up at her vapidly. He could have been looking through dusty marbles as eyes for all the enthusiasm he put forth. He was much too thin, Kyoko noted absently, and wondered if the Varia were adequately feeding him.

"Yes," Kyoko nodded, bowing and flashing a kind smile. It was her trademark win-over. "Fran-kun, I presume? You have a lovely place."

Fran didn't even blink. "Come in."

Within the Varia Headquarters, the sporadic speckling of neoclassic statues, bronze carvings, and Rococo paintings was considered nothing but protocol. Apparently, the Vongola Nono could afford the expenses. Kyoko marveled at the decor and how neat everything was, despite her hosts' reputed rowdiness. Down one hallway there was a grandfather clock as big as a window. The curtains were made of plush velvet. Paintings of previous dons glared intimidatingly down at her from the walls, their expressions detailed and realistic. Kyoko felt woozy again, and she shook her head. Nono was right there along with them on the wall, and the painted strokes of his bushy mustache made Kyoko feel a little more at ease.

Kyoko had actually met the Varia before, but she usually worked with them through Tsu-kun and never really had much say in their dealings. Officially introducing herself to the Varia wasn't so bad, as it turned out. Levi-san was polite enough, whereas Lussuria-san and Belphegor-kun were a little too polite. Fran was quiet, wary.

"You _must_ tell me what kind of shampoo you use!" Lussuria exclaimed, twirling Kyoko's ponytail in his fingers as she laughed openly. Gokudera would have had a mild heart attack if he had been present. Belphegor was eyeing her in all the wrong places, but Kyoko didn't mind. She welcomed the attention since she knew that she was pretty, and that living in a secluded mansion with a bunch of men could get stifling at times (_she_ should know, haha!). Belphegor seemed a little put out that his staring hadn't unnerved her, so after a while he merely shrugged, gave a little laugh through his teeth, and drifted off to bother Fran.

Squalo would have been handsome, Kyoko decided, if his face hadn't been perpetually molded into a scowl. It was rather unbecoming of him, but she reminded herself that some people just had mean faces. Take Kyouya-san, for example. And Xanxus, as she would momentarily discover.

In a faint way, Xanxus reminded Kyoko of her brother. He was decidedly awkward and restive with others, but he tried to smother it with a blanket of nonchalance similar to nii-san. Only nii-san tended to splutter and flounder more. Nonetheless it was a thin blanket indeed, and Kyoko saw that Lussuria, Belphegor, and, to her surprise, Fran were all biting back laughter at Xanxus's manner. It was understandable; most of the Italian mafia consisted of men, and the Varia were used to dealing with people brusquely and more often than not through coercion.

Kyoko knew that any red-blooded Italian man with...fairly reasonable morals would have trouble threatening a lady. She quickly saw that the Varia were probably even more nervous than she was, since they had absolutely no clue how to interact with someone who didn't present a threat.

"Well," Kyoko exclaimed, eyes meeting Xanxus's reassuringly, "shall we get to work?" Xanxus merely grunted and motioned for Kyoko to follow him. She was all business, which impressed him on some unspoken level. Squalo followed, his long hair trailing behind him in a silvery sheet.

They entered another room which consisted of an impressive oval table and striped chairs. Like the others, this room was almost Renaissance in style and in how elaborate it was. Kyoko shivered as she sat down, feeling cold all of a sudden. She swallowed, hearing her throat click.

"The ring," Xanxus prompted, sitting down and crossing his legs. Kyoko swallowed again, her heart beating as she reached for her briefcase. She suppressed another shiver, although she didn't feel nervous, exactly. What in the world had come over her?

She placed the ring gently on the table. It was an ostentatious thing, really-alleged Egyptian ruby belonging to King Ferdinand III himself. The Gavanis claimed it was real, and more importantly, theirs.

"We tried suspending it in clerici to see if the specific gravity matched," Kyoko informed Xanxus and Squalo, "and it passed the pleochroism test, but even Gianinni-san isn't a gemologist, so we can't really..."

Xanxus silenced her with a hand, rubbing a scar along his jawline thoughtfully and peering at the ring. "Refraction, woman," he said finally, sounding tired. "All you need to do is hold it up to the light." He picked up the ring and twisted it in his fingers for a moment. Kyoko thought his hands looked too big and clumsy to hold such a delicate piece of jewelry, but somehow Xanxus pulled it off with a subtle elegance.

"It's a fake."

"Oh, I see," Kyoko said faintly. The ring blurred slightly in her line of vision. She really wasn't feeling very well, all of a sudden. Maybe it was something she had eaten.

Squalo snorted. "Nothing but a piece of trash after all, huh," he said, picking up the ring and inspecting it for himself with triumphant disgust.

"Shut up." Xanxus smacked Squalo's shins, since Squalo was still standing beside the chair. It was a halfhearted thwack, though, since Xanxus was just as excited as Squalo was. Now that the ring was proven fake, the Vongola had full authority to bash the Gavanis' legal brains in. Which meant more money for them, and possibly some more losers to kill.

"Take this back to the little shits," Xanxus began to Kyoko, placing the ring on the table, "and have Sawada Tsunayoshi sue the ass out of..." he trailed off, pausing once he realized that the woman was no longer listening to him. A little sound escaped him which resembled something of an _"uh..."_

Squalo made a confused noise of his own and blinked at Kyoko, who was slumped against the couch with her eyes closed. "Did-did she fall _asleep?"_ he asked incredulously. Xanxus didn't care of she was jet-lagged or asleep or unconscious, but he did not appreciate being ignored, not one bit. He scowled, leaned over, and tapped the table.

"Oi, woman." Kyoko didn't respond. Her complexion had gone paler than Squalo's, who was at least entitled to his pallor because he was albino.

For one of the first times in his life, Xanxus did not know what to do. What if it was some kind of female thing? He tried tapping the table again, producing the same results.

Squalo took a tentative step closer. "Is she...injured, you think?" Xanxus didn't answer, so Squalo shrugged and decided to try something new. "Vooiii, woman!" he barked, then decided to have another go with her actual name. "Sasagawa Kyoko!"

At this Kyoko stirred, but didn't open her eyes. "I'm sorry," she murmured into the couch. It was barely a whisper. "I don't feel well at all..."

"Woman." Squalo tapped the table like Xanxus had done. "Hey." Still no response.

From the couch, sounding impatient, Xanxus said, "do something, trash."

So, Squalo went to his last resort, sucking in a breath: "LUSSURIA!"

There was a faint "Yes?" from somewhere else on the floor, muffled by the distance and the walls.

"GET IN HERE, YOU FAG!"

The sound of approaching footsteps amplified until Lussuria appeared in the doorway. He adjusted his glasses and caught his breath. "What is it, Squ-kun?"

Squalo pointed to the couch. "What's wrong with her." It was almost a question.

Lussuria peered over and got a glimpse of Kyoko. "Oh my," he exclaimed, hurrying over. He tilted her head up, felt her cheeks, checked her pulse. "The poor thing's feverish!"

Xanxus felt a vein pulsing in his temple. "Feverish?" he asked, his voice insidiously quiet. "Heal her. Now."

Lussuria smiled sheepishly, fidgeting with the ends of his feathered collar. "Well, Boss, my sun flames only work on physical injury, not illness-"

"Tch." Xanxus stood, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants. "Then get that idiot doctor over here."

It was Squalo's turn to look sheepish. "Shamal? He's at Cardarelli, which is two hours away..."

"I don't care! Fucking scum! Just get him here today!"

From the couch, Kyoko grimaced and moaned softly as Squalo stormed off to call Shamal. Xanxus, on the brink of cursing out his subordinates, seemed to reconsider at the sound of Kyoko's moan. He exhaled through his nose and turned to Lussuria. "What do we do with the woman?" he asked, calmer.

"Put a blanket on her," Lussuria replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which it kind of was. "And then get her some wat-"

"You do it," Xanxus cut in, also heading for the door. "I don't have time for weak people."

_to be continued..._


	2. II

All characters © Amano Akira

_Summary:_ The Varia finally meet someone who they cannot intimidate when a mission takes an unexpected turn.

* * *

><p><strong><em>The White Chrysanthemum <em>**

**_2._**

"It's the flu," Shamal informed Xanxus, straightening up and wiping off the thermometer with a sterilized cloth. "She probably picked it up traveling and her body couldn't fight it off."

Xanxus's ursine scowl grew more pronounced. They had put Kyoko in one of the guest bedrooms, Squalo threatening to skewer Bel or Fran if they so much as set a toe in there. Shamal, though his attraction to nearly anything of the female persuasion was still present, knew better than to try anything with Kyoko. She was too ill, the Varia would flay him alive, and Shamal liked to think that he had matured at least a little in the last ten years. Sort of.

He handed Xanxus a list of instructions, inwardly grinning at the flabbergasted expression on the latter's face. It was something you did not see very often, since few had the ability to catch the leader of the Varia by surprise. He was one, _Nono_ was another, and Sawada Tsunayoshi was the third. He wondered if Kyoko would also be on that list. Perhaps.

"Here're the treatment and care instructions," Shamal said, digging through his pocket for a pen. "My mosquitos can only do so much, so I'll get you the prescribed medicines..."

"Hold it."

Shamal was one of the scant handful of people in the northern hemisphere (and perhaps the entire world) who Xanxus had remotely any respect for, as Shamal, more often than not, found himself caring for the Varia. You'd think a group of thirty-something year old men could take care of themselves, but they were surprisingly exigent in the health department. Let's not be reminded that all of them were, to Shamal's dismay (and personal amusement), either elementary or high school dropouts. That, coalescing with testosterone, stubbornness, and sharp objects created a very dangerous cocktail that Shamal had long since gotten used to.

But that didn't mean he could get away with everything. Xanxus pointed to Kyoko. "Isn't she going to your clinic?"

Shamal looked highly amused. "Heavens no," he replied. "Sasagawa Kyoko is your guest, therefore your responsibility."

"Why you piece of trash..."

"Besides, you know I am weak against the effects of winsome pulchritude. Who knows what I may do to her if she comes with _me?"_ Shamal baited, an impish smile curling up the corners of his mouth. He was also one of the only people in the mafia capable of provoking Xanxus and living to tell the tale, which made Xanxus all the more pissed off. That was the problem with the indispensable types; they knew that they could never be replaced and they tended to get cocky about it. Shamal really wasn't going to do anything, and truthfully, he was a trifle worried about Kyoko, but Lussuria seemed to be half-competent in health care and he knew that Xanxus was man enough not to dump Kyoko somewhere on the streets.

"Fine," Xanxus spat, snatching the list from Shamal disgustedly and motioning toward the door.

"Treat her well," Shamal drawled, walking out in a billow of white tailcoats.

"We will call you if we need anything."

Shamal looked over his shoulder and grinned. "If you follow my instructions, you won't have to."

/

"Boss," Squalo began some short time later, interrupting Xanxus's unrelenting stream of maledictions, "you seem a little troubled."

Xanxus promptly threw his half-finished tequila at Squalo's head. Squalo narrowly dodged it, wincing as the glass shattered against the wall. There went another Waterford crystal. "Troubled? No," Xanxus sneered, "we just have some sick woman to take care of for a week. Motherfuck. Sawada Tsunayoshi is going to owe me _bigtime_ for this."

Squalo agreed, although for different reasons. They didn't associate much with women, and if they did they were mafia women, from a whole different ilk than the common wench. Granted, Sasagawa Kyoko was indeed a mafia woman, but she had not been raised in the lifestyle as say, Vongola Ottavo was. If the woman didn't die under their care, it would be a miracle.

Xanxus suddenly remembered something. "Trash," he snapped, "go down to the message board and inform the brat that his woman won't be returning until next week." Squalo groaned. Naturally, the most trying tasks were given to the Varia member with the _highest_ blood pressure. Why did he always have to be the one to make the transcontinental calls to Japan? No wonder his hair was prematurely white.

"Yes Boss," Squalo grit out, already planning on how he would break this to the little shits. This should be interesting.

/

"What do you mean, privately?"

"I mean I want you to get the katana brat, the bomb freak and the boxing idiot _OUT OF THE ROOM!"_ Squalo roared into the camera. "How many times do I have to say I want to talk to you alone? Vooiiii!"

Tsunayoshi cringed, surprised that the speakers on his end had not shattered. "Alright, alright. Everyone, I think you heard Squalo loud and clear."

"But Tenth-"

"This is TOO EXTREME!"

"If it's important enough for Squalo to want to talk to me in private, then please respect my wishes and step outside," Tsunayoshi said in that soft, lilting way of his. Squalo watched, not without some amazement, as the others actually listened and did as they were told, shuffling out begrudgingly. A wonder. And Tsunayoshi didn't even have to use any swear words to do it. The Arcobaleno stayed, which was all right. He was quiet.

Tsunayoshi turned back to the screen. "Now, Squalo," he said, "what do you wish to talk to me about? Is it the Gavani ring?"

Squalo flapped his good hand dismissively. "The ring's a fake, complete garbage," he said. "No, it's about your woman. Sasagawa Kyoko."

Tsunayoshi's expression changed immediately. His eyes hardened, and a crease appeared along his brow in a deep slash. "Is Kyoko alright?" he asked. Tsunayoshi noticed, with alarm, that Squalo actually looked uncomfortable. It was an expression he never thought he'd see on the swordsman's face, and it sat oddly there, not fitting. Like a fat man trying to squeeze into a kiddie swing. The image just wasn't right.

Squalo on the other hand had idly begun to fidget, inwardly marveling that the only time Tsunayoshi ever actually looked like a mafioso was when his trash friends were in danger. The change was quite unsettling.

"She'll be fine," Squalo growled, blowing a silver fringe out of his eyes with his lower lip. "She just has to stay here until next week or so until she's well enough to leave. The woman...fell ill." He could see Tsunayoshi pinching the bridge of his nose in distress, and he almost felt bad for the kid.

"Cold?" Tsunayoshi asked faintly.

"Flu." There was a hiss at this, followed by an explosive sigh.

"Can I talk to her?"

"Later," Squalo barked.

Tsunayoshi looked taken aback. "...why?"

"She's, eh, sleeping." Did he really just say the word "eh?" There went his swordsman pride; seven languages under his belt and all he could say was "eh." He looked up to see Tsunayoshi smiling.

"Oh, that's all right then. We'll be in touch in a few days, about the Gavanis and about Kyoko. And Squalo?"

"Ah?"

Tsunayoshi's eyes were big, brown, and warm. "Thank you."

"Tch. Whatever, kid." And with that, he disconnected.

"You handled that very well," Reborn noted, once Tsuna had turned off the monitor.

"You think?" Tsuna asked, putting his face in his hands. "I'm worried sick. The Varia probably don't know the first thing about taking care of her!"

"Shamal's over there."

"That's even worse!"

Reborn shrugged. "Trust your family," was his only reply.

Tsuna stared forlornly at his reflection in the black plasma monitor, imagining Kyoko alone in a large mansion with seven other men. Snow White she wasn't.

"I'm going to have to," he said.

_to be continued..._


	3. III

All characters © Amano Akira

_Summary:_ The Varia finally meet someone who they cannot intimidate when a mission takes an unexpected turn.

* * *

><p><strong><em>The White Chrysanthemum <em>**

**_3._**

Lussuria was, to put it mildly, stressed.

As the oldest member of the Varia, he was somewhat entitled to be the "Mommy." The finer points of domestic care were generally left to him, the others' pride being too great to admit that they didn't even have a clue on how to do things themselves.

Yet despite the cursing, shooting, stabbing, and the quotidian chucking of various household objects, they were still like one big family. One big, happy, dysfunctional family. The title of Mommy didn't really mean much, in the end. Lussuria was the son of Xanxus one day, the mother of Bel or the brother of Squalo another. He was everything, nothing, Varia, human, man, woman.

Whatever he was at the moment, he was close to tears. Mommy was overworked.

Xanxus's lip curled upward, like the skin of an onion. He fixed Lussuria with a blank stare, eerily calm for having just been informed of disastrous news. "What do you mean, dinner will be late?"

"I couldn't put the pot pie in the oven until an hour ago!" Lussuria whined, running a hand through his mohawk. He was still wearing his apron with the white lace trim. "I had to get Kyoko tea according to Shamal's instructions and change her sheets and_ then_ I had to do Fran's shirt since Bel stabbed holes in it again-"

"I don't care about your chores, trash," Xanxus cut in. "I'm hungry."

"Yes, well, taking care of our guest has become a priority," Lussuria testily reminded his boss, tone cautious lest he get something thrown at him (although he rarely got the privilege, since that was usually Squalo's pleasure). How was he supposed to do everything around here? The flu could be serious business, and it required extra care along with all of the usual chores and cooking. Maybe he would teach the others how to do their own laundry one of these days (it would be some time before Lussuria trusted any of them in the kitchen).

Xanxus looked torn. "Fine," he spat. "Let the others take care of the woman, and you focus on my _goddamn dinner."_

"Yes, Boss," Lussuria sighed. On one hand it would be a relief to finally relinquish the nursing to someone else, but on the other he would have to make sure they didn't kill the poor girl in the process.

Starting with Levi would be a good idea. Levi was the next most competent one around here, even if he did screw things up most of the time. But at least he screwed them up _earnestly._ Lussuria didn't see Kyoko as the type to hold a grudge, which should be fine. She was polite enough, smiling and thanking him, and if she was ever angry about the fact that, ten years ago, Lussuria had beaten her brother to a pulp, she never showed it.

Yes, Levi would be fine. Hopefully. It was best not to think about it. Lussuria hurried down to the kitchen to check on the pie in the oven. Of all the things he had to take care of, he didn't plan on making a call to the Fire Department one of them.

/

"It's um, chicken broth," a somewhat awkward Levi announced as he entered Kyoko's room.

"Hello, Levi-san," Kyoko greeted, sitting up. She was tired, cold, and achy, but tried not to show it as Levi set the bowl down on her nightstand. Miraculously, he made it there without tripping or dropping anything, which he silently congratulated himself on. It was odd that he was making the effort to be graceful, since his usual lack of dexterity only showed itself in the presence of the Boss.

The bed was large-a king size, with a Turkish patterned duvet-and in it Kyoko looked very small. She leaned over, smelling the soup with her eyes closed, and set the bowl on her lap. "Thank you," she said.

Levi's thick eyebrows jumped up at this, his reason being that any form of thanks was about as commonly heard as "flibber gibbets" here. It had taken him completely by surprise. "Uh...what?"

Kyoko met his eye. "Thank you," she repeated, and Levi felt something inside him break down just a little. With a wobbly feeling in his gut, Levi realized that those were the words he had dreamed over and over again of hearing from Xanxus. He had been dreaming of it for the past eighteen years, since part of him knew it would never be anything more than a dream. The Varia were rarely shown any gratitude for their work, both within and without their own outlandish gang. Those two words, though, even when said by somebody else, well, it felt...dare he say it? Nice.

Levi broke out of his daydreaming to find Kyoko frowning slightly at her bowl. "Um, is it not hot enough?" he fumbled, going over the soup's preparation again in his head to see if he had missed anything. "Because I can go heat it..."

"Useless," she said softly.

"P-pardon?"

Kyoko raised her head. "Sometimes I feel like I am useless, Levi-san," she said. "Good for nothing." He was silent, and she continued (probably more to herself than to him), "I try to do things right but I'm never strong enough, and people end up having to save me or protect me in the end. It's quite frustrating."

"Oh." Levi didn't know what else to say.

"You're strong, Levi-san," Kyoko continued, swirling the soup around with her spoon and waiting for it to cool. "You've probably never felt this way before-" she smiled sadly-"so this must sound kind of silly."

Levi pulled at the ends of his mustache uncomfortably. "Um, no."

Kyoko laughed quietly and nodded. "It is silly. I should just get stronger, right?"

"No, I mean I've felt that way before."

Kyoko's eyes widened, and Levi internally groaned. What was he doing, talking to this woman about things she would never understand? Oh, well. The can of worms had been opened. Now they were wriggling against the lid, trying to get out. Best get it over with. Besides, the woman looked genuinely curious. He could always threaten her into secrecy later.

"I've been working for Xanxus-sama for eighteen years," Levi began, averting his eyes, "but, no matter how hard I try or whatever I do for him, he never acknowledges me. He thinks I'm weak, yet he orders me around to do everything for him. And whenever I try to impress him, I...I make a mess out of everything."

Kyoko frowned. "Really? He's never acknowledged you? Not once?" Levi shook his head.

"Then why does he ask you to do everything for him, and not someone else?"

"Uh..." Levi paused at this, stroking the ends of his mustache. Now that he thought about it, he really had no idea. He'd initially thought it was because he was the easiest one to pick on. "Because...I can?"

At this Kyoko smiled. "Or maybe," she replied, "because you're the only one that _will_ do everything, and Xanxus-san trusts you with that. I don't know a lot about him, but he seems like a person who won't openly acknowledge someone, even if he wants to. He might do it silently."

Levi felt something in his heart lift, like he had reached in and taken out something bitter and stinking and rotten, because a part of him knew that the woman was right. "You really think so?"

A beam lit up Kyoko's pale face. "Mm, definitely!" she exclaimed.

Levi was reeling inside; this was an epiphany, or something like it. Maybe the Boss really did care. But was it really such a surprise, or had Levi known this all along inside?

He bowed to the girl in the bed, stuttering out a formal "Thank you very much!" before rushing out.

Kyoko smiled, closed her eyes, and cradled the warm bowl of soup in her lap. Things here weren't so bad, she decided.

/

Perhaps she had spoken too soon, Kyoko thought through a fevered daze. Her temperature was spiking, which was both good in that it would break soon but bad in that it was making her physically uncomfortable for the time being. She couldn't seem to decide if she was hot or cold, so she opted for just closing her eyes and breathing steadily until the worst passed.

Unfortunately, this also happened to be the time that befell Belphegor to fill in Lussuria's slot as designated caregiver. Fran had clogged the toilet (again; proportions of toilet paper per use seemed to mysteriously bypass him), so Lussuria was slightly occupied with alleviating the manor's plumbing. Everyone else conveniently had something to do, so Belphegor had volunteered to check up on the woman.

"Don't do anything," Squalo had snapped. "Just poke your head in and check that she's not dying or something. If she's asleep, _don't wake her._ If she needs anything, get it. _Capisce?"_

Well technically she was awake. But barely. Conscious enough to hold conversation, Bel decided, so he strolled into the room.

"Just so you know, it was me who made that soup yesterday," he announced proudly, taking an elegant seat at the foot of her bed. "Levi can't cook worth shit."

"It was...very good..." Kyoko nodded, coming out of her daze a little. Belphegor was the only Varia member besides Lussuria who was not openly awkward around her, which Kyoko couldn't yet decide was a good or a bad thing. His weight left a soft impact on the duvet, and Kyoko suddenly longed for Tsuna. Sleeping in an empty bed, sick, and in a foreign country was always lonely work.

Bel kicked his feet up, a little bored. He didn't expect the woman to entertain him, but he was bored nonetheless. The woman was good looking by anyone's standards-perhaps even beautiful, but Bel only went for available purchase. Sold merchandise didn't quite do it for him, although the woman did have an absolutely _stunning_ set of knockers. He wondered how far she and the Vongola brat had gotten.

Well, no harm in finding out. "So, you get to sixty-nine with him yet?" he asked out loud. Kyoko's half-lidded eyes opened a little wider.

"Harassing our guest already, senpai?"

"What the hell are you doing here, toilet-clogger?" Bel smirked as Fran poked his head into the room, thankfully before Kyoko had the chance to answer. Fran walked in, scratching his hair underneath the hat he wore.

"Making sure you haven't killed her yet," he replied blandly. His accent was slightly different from Belphegor's and the others', now that Kyoko thought about it. Whereas the rest of the Varia had some form of Italian emphasis on their Japanese, Fran's speech was lighter, more lilting and exotic. Parisian, almost.

Fran pulled out a CD from the pocket of his coat. "There's a CD player under the bed," he intoned. "Outlet's by the wall. Lussu-senpai thought you might like this."

Kyoko weakly reached out a hand to inspect the disc. It was Ravel's_ Daphnis and Chloe, _and she discovered that she was impressed despite herself. "I didn't know you liked classical music, Fran-kun..."

Fran shrugged with absolutely no compunction whatsoever and replied, "I actually stole it from Boss's collection."

Kyoko smiled at this, finding the fact that Xanxus-san had such refined taste in music pleasantly surprising. She closed her eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over her. Bel saw her drifting off and poked her knee under the duvet. "Oi, woman."

"I'm fine," Kyoko said faintly from the bed, eyes closed. Bel frowned beneath his hair, turning back towards her, and then did something that even left Fran speechless: he placed a hand across Kyoko's forehead. Kyoko's eyes opened for a brief second; then they closed and she smiled a little. Fran, although shocked out of his mind, displayed his emotion only with a blink.

Bel took his hand away. "Feeling a little warm there, huh?"

Kyoko shrugged and gave a cough. "It will go down soon," she informed him. "This usually happens."

Bel blinked. "Usually?"

"Aw, such concern," Fran commented in that bland way of his that was somehow mocking but at the same time humored. "Are you falling for her? She'd make a great princess, Prince Senpai."

"Quiet, you," Bel snapped, flicking a throwing knife at Fran without even turning around.

"Ow," Fran said flatly, extracting the knife from one of the blue frog eyes on his hat. He saw that the woman was either a) too ill to notice that it had gone through his hat or b) assumed the hat extremely padded. "Could you not stab me, senpai?"

"Could you not berate my royal lineage?"

Fran tossed the knife back to Bel. "Maybe if you didn't feel the need to constantly bring it up I wouldn't feel inclined to question its veracity."

_"Ushishishi._ You might want to be quiet now; I'm annoyed." Bel felt the bed trembling underneath him as he twitched with irritation, stroking the knives along the nail of his finger.

"No, actually you're quite funny."

Bel paused in the act of stringing together a slew of knives. "Excuse me?"

Fran pointed to Kyoko. "She seems to think so," he observed. The bed's trembling, as it turned out, was Kyoko's silent laughter. She was shaking with the effort to not burst out laughing, but she was giggling hard enough to bounce the mattress up and down. The two youngest members of the Varia stared at her.

"You're adorable, both of you!" she gasped, wiping at her eyes. The last time she'd laughed this hard was when her brother had challenged Lambo to a helium-sucking contest at Tsuna's twenty-third birthday party. Perhaps the effects of the fever made everything seem more amusing; she did not know nor care.

Bel blinked, eyebrows raised behind his thick bangs- one of the few times in his life he found himself at a loss for words.

Kyoko giggled and tried to cover the sound by putting a hand over her mouth. "Has anyone ever told you how funny you two are?" she asked.

Bel blinked again. "No, they're usually screaming and running away," he replied distantly. Kyoko merely smiled and closed her eyes, and since there was nothing more Fran or Bel could think to say, they departed somewhat awkwardly.

"I think that's the first time anyone's laughed at us, senpai," Fran remarked once they had closed the door to Kyoko's room behind them. "To our faces, I mean."

_"Ushishi._ Women are weird," Bel said offhandedly, although he felt strangely flattered. Not that he would tell anyone, mind you.

/

Under normal circumstances, Tsuna was usually very mindful of the eight hour time difference between Japan and Italy. Namely, forgetting it would mean some very grouchy assassins if he called them in the middle of the night. He'd rather wake up _Hibari Kyouya_ at 2 a.m. than the Varia, which said something.

But Tsuna couldn't wait any longer. Three days had passed, and he was practically tearing his hair out. He could call Kyoko on her cell, but what if she was resting? And besides, Reborn would kill him if Nana got another phone bill with international fees. With the video intercom system, it was all free. Unfortunately, that also gave Tsuna the pleasure of seeing Belphegor in silk pajamas that looked like they cost more than his entire kitchen.

"You had better have a good reason for waking the prince from his royal repose."

Tsuna sighed. Sometimes he wondered if it was worth it. "Yes, I'm sorry for calling so early. I...ah, I mean, I just wanted to see how Kyoko was," he said.

Bel grinned one of his whale's leers. "The woman? She's fine."

"Fine?" Tsuna frowned. He really wished someone else had answered on the other line; Bel was loyal, but he had a history of being a pathological liar, along with the child sociopathy and general...disturbia. "Is she feeling better? Does she need anything?"

_"Ushishi!_ Like I said, she's fine."

"Maybe you should put Lussuria on," Tsuna replied, pressing. "I really need a status report."

Under all that hair, he could have sworn Bel was rolling his eyes. "Sheesh, alright! The woman's properly hydrated, her fever went down, and she's sleeping most of the time."

"I...see." Tsuna gave his head a little shake to dislodge a sudden sense of vertigo. This was Belphegor, the Bloody Prince of the Varia. Murderer by the age of eight and mass murderer by the age of ten. And he was giving medical updates. Such strange goings on in this world of theirs.

"Say, Tsunayoshi," Bel was saying, adjusting his tiara so that it sat straighter on his head, "do you think the prince is funny?"

"What?" It sounded like a complete _non sequitur,_ and Tsuna briefly tried to recall if he had zoned out and missed anything in their previous conversation. Pretty sure he had not, Tsuna squinted at the monitor as he tried to discern whether or not it had been a trick question.

Bel looked behind him to see if anyone had come in in a very unBel-like gesture, almost as if he was embarrassed to ask, and repeated the question. "Am I funny?"

"No, you're- well, I don't know, Belphegor," Tsuna fished around for a response. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"The prince is curious."

Tsuna sighed, finally caving in and deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. The worst part was that, because the transcontinental intercom system was free (work of Giannini's unexplained underground sources), there were no long-distance minutes to use up, meaning no good excuse to end the conversation. Might as well play along.

"I honestly have no idea," he answered. "Possibly? You guys live on another continent, so you might want to ask someone else other than me..."

_"Ushishi,_ you're so boring," Bel sighed, leaning back on the couch and laughing that little imp's laugh through his teeth. "No sense of humor at all. Bye-bye." And with that, he disconnected, leaving Tsuna very confused but slightly relieved that his fiancée was doing better. Tsuna powered off the intercom, hearing the satisfying buzz as the screen went black.

_No sense of humor?_ he thought dimly as he stared at the remote in his hand. At least his mirth didn't stem from copious amounts of blood and screaming.

_to be continued..._


	4. IV

All characters © Amano Akira

_Summary:_ The Varia finally meet someone who they cannot intimidate when a mission takes an unexpected turn.

* * *

><p><strong><em>The White Chrysanthemum <em>**

**_4._**

With small but strong fingers, Kyoko balled up another tissue up and placed it into the waist basket by her bed. The worst was over; now was there was just hacking, sneezing, and other oh-so-classy symptoms of congestion that signified the aftermath of the waning flu.

Her eyes fell on a pitcher of water on her bed stand, mostly full and gleaming with condensation. _Daphnis and Chloe_ filtered softly into the room through the CD player she had set up. Maybe she would try to get Tsu-kun into classical music when she returned. It was such beautiful work; the orchestration itself just made her want to float.

The Varia really were nice boys, Kyoko thought. Nicer than they probably even thought they were. Sure, they killed a lot and had probably never been taught proper table etiquette, but they weren't the monsters everyone reputed them to be. Most of the time.

The initial frustration of being incapacitated right after she convinced Tsu-kun and the others that she was fine on her own had begun to wane as well, just like her flu, since she realized it was something that had been completely out of her control. This could have happened to anybody. Picturing someone like Rokudo Mukuro or Hibari Kyouya bedridden seemed insane and somewhat laughable, but it was possible. Everyone got sick. Kyoko's timing was simply less than perfect.

She was not one of those girls who felt the need to apologize incessantly, which Kyoko saw that the Varia were grateful for. She was ill, but tried not to complain extensively (it actually earned her more brownie points in the Varia's eyes than she was aware of; they had seen men twice her size gripe like big babies).

Her phone was dead; her Japanese mobile service didn't work up here in the mountains. Tsu-kun must be quite worried, Kyoko thought with a smile. That was all right. He could wait a few more days for her to return. She would give him a..._thorough_ welcome soon enough.

Squalo had been in to see her this morning, and Kyoko had almost laughed at how edgy he had been. She supposed the small cough she had, which sounded far worse than it actually was, had quite literally scared him away. He had stood by the door as if she had the plague, but Kyoko didn't take umbrage at this. It was probably a mix of germaphobia, gynophobia, and just plain social awkwardness that stemmed from the fact that Squalo didn't know how to handle anything that _didn't_ possess an intent to kill. Kyoko had thanked him and dismissed him, to which Squalo had all but bolted for the door.

They were all quite funny, in their own way. Kyoko surmised that if there had been a story involving them, they would probably be the side characters who try fervently to be evil but end up being more amusing than anything as the story goes on.

All in all, the Varia just took themselves way too seriously. Therefore, no one else could take them seriously at all, in the end.

/

Xanxus wiped his mouth with a napkin that had the Varia crest embossed at the bottom corner. "Trash," he began, "when can we send the woman home?" His tone suggested a lighter mood, as it often did when he was in the presence of his beloved filet mignon. It was served just right today; not too cold the way those shit-ass cooks did it, and not overdone like Lussuria sometimes made it. Nice and juicy.

Squalo shrugged once. "How should I know? Ask Lussuria."

"Lussuria," Xanxus said quietly, "is downstairs, which would mean that I would have to leave my steak to go get him." Squalo swallowed, well aware of the implications of what would happen if he made Xanxus abandon his dinner. He sighed.

"Soon," he replied, "though not for another day or two. The woman isn't completely healed yet."

"Nn?" Xanxus growled behind a mouthful of filet. "What the fuck's still wrong with her?"

"Well, she coughs," Squalo replied uncomfortably, recalling earlier. Xanxus raised an eyebrow. "And sneezes. You know how much it sucks ass getting on a plane like that."

Xanxus did. When he was twenty-five an unfortunate job in Livigno had left him with bronchitis, and by the time they had returned to Naples Xanxus had been ready to tear his ears off and shoot anyone who tried to speak to him. And that had been in the Varia's private jet too, which Xanxus could only imagine being more comfortable than the public airlines.

He had apparently been lost in this memory for several minutes, for Squalo had decided to interrupt with a quiet "Boss?"

Xanxus popped the last of the filet mignon into his mouth, chewing furiously, took a swig of wine, and stood up. As Squalo's curious gray eyes fell on him Xanxus grimaced darkly, loosening his tie with an irritated tug of his fingers. "Stay away from the kitchen," he finally told Squalo, "or I'll shoot you." And with that he breezed out in a billow of feathers and tails, leaving Squalo quite perplexed for a moment until realization dawned on him.

"You don't mean..."

/

Miura Haru was red in the face, doubled over and laughing so hard she was wheezing.

Upon observation one would have worried for _her_ health instead of Kyoko's. Tsuna pursed his lips and waited for her to finish, his forehead creased in confusion. "I...wasn't really expecting that kind of reaction when I told you the news, Haru."

After a few moments Haru straightened up behind her desk, still snorting and wiping at the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry, Tsuna-san," she giggled. "It's just kind of funny."

First Bianchi, now Haru. Tsuna, for the life of him, couldn't understand why the girls weren't more worried. Gokudera was having a mild aneurysm back at home, and Ryohei had destroyed at least two public buildings in the last three days. Even Yamamoto seemed uptight, although that could have just been from handling all the property damage. The girls probably didn't understand, Tsuna concluded, they not having experienced "Varia Quality" firsthand.

"I know you've met them before, but I don't think you really _know_ the Varia," Tsuna explained. "They're assassins."

Haru cocked her head. "And we're not?" Tsuna's shoulders slumped as he conceded; she did have a point. Maybe he should have rephrased.

"I understand the Varia perfectly. I do their taxes, after all." She gestured to her desk. "It says a lot about a man."

"Then aren't you concerned? The Varia could kill her." _In so many ways,_ he wanted to add, but didn't.

Haru erupted into another fit of gales. "Haven't you noticed, Tsuna-san? We have a lot of big babies in our family."

"Uhm...?"

Haru pulled her chair in closer, propping her elbows up. "Tell me," she grinned, "have you ever seen Hibari-san with Hibird?"

It was then that Tsuna realized this was probably the first real intelligent conversation he was having with Miura Haru in over a year. Sure, she did the Vongola tax repairs and collateral damage fees, but that was just business. Tsuna realized that he'd never really sat down and talked with Haru intimately before, and now that he had he was thinking that maybe she was a lot smarter than she acted.

He didn't need her to explain further. "But don't you think Kyoko's situation is a little different?" he asked. "Last time I checked, she wasn't a cute, fluffy bird."

"Excluding the bird part," Haru nodded. "Unless I'm mistaken in the pet names you call her?" Her eyes glinted mischievously. Tsuna cleared his throat loudly, pulling at the collar of his shirt.

"If you're worrying about Kyoko-chan, stop," Haru concluded. "She will turn the Varia into bumbling idiots. Don't think I haven't seen the effect she had on you in middle school. It's the same thing."

Tsuna looked uncomfortable, but at the same time he felt strangely relieved. Perhaps he had not had enough faith in Kyoko. "You really think so, Haru?" he asked.

Haru stacked a set of papers, laughing. "Take a look at the Varia's faces next week, and then think twice before underestimating a woman's charm, Tsuna-san," she said comfortably.

/

In the third floor living room, Lussuria grabbed the ends of Squalo's hair from the other side of the sofa and pulled him close. Squalo promptly dropped the novel he was reading and growled at losing his page.

"Ne, Squ-kun. I'm afraid."

Squalo snatched his hair back, looking irate. And he was just getting to the good part of his book, too. "Hah?"

"Boss is in the kitchen," Bel explained from the other sofa. He had been cleaning his knives to distract himself from the rumbling in his stomach. Levi and Fran had gone to town to get some pasta, but it took a half hour to even get down the mountain.

"Can't you just go in there and grab me a sandwich?" Bel asked Lussuria, grimacing as his stomach let loose another noise of protest. The prince did not like to go hungry.

"I don't want to die young!" Lussuria protested, clapping a hand to his cheek and displaying the sparkle nail polish he had donned the other day. "Boss _never_ uses the kitchen. Why do you suppose he's in there?" Bel shrugged halfheartedly.

"I don't hear anything breaking...and nothing's on fire. Is he attempting to poison Don Cagellini again?"

"He's cooking."

Both Bel and Lussuria turned sharply to stare at Squalo. "What?"

"Can Boss even cook?"

"He...can. Sort of," Squalo replied, averting his gaze. If you hadn't know him for a few decades it would have been difficult to tell that the swordsman actually looked awkward.

Lussuria, on the other hand, looked shocked. "How come I never knew this? And when did he ever cook? Oh, to think of all those years I spent in the kitchen alone, with no one to keep me company...the travail..." he placed the back of his hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically.

"When did Boss ever cook, Fishy?" Bel asked, ignoring Lussuria's histrionics. He had ceased his knife cleaning and was cocking his head at Squalo. Squalo rolled his eyes, seeing as he would have to answer the question eventually.

"It was a long time ago," he snapped. "Long story short, I was sick, he made soup. It's the only goddamn thing he knows how to make. Happy?"

The room held silence for a good minute, the quiet thick and stifling. The sound of two minds reeling and then snapping cleanly in half was almost audible.

"..."

"EHHH?"

_to be continued..._


	5. V

All characters © Amano Akira

_Summary:_ The Varia finally meet someone who they cannot intimidate when a mission takes an unexpected turn.

* * *

><p><strong><em>The White Chrysanthemum <em>**

**_5._**

It had been ten years ago. Or maybe nine; he couldn't remember.

Oh yeah, right. That had been the time they'd lost a bunch of four hundred-plus year old rings and had their asses handed to them by a group of pubescent teenagers. And then he had been mauled by a shark. After a humiliating week of being poked and prodded by Cavallone's doctors, the Cervello chewing their hides, followed by heavy international travel, it was no wonder Squalo had gotten ill.

Xanxus had first made his soup after the Battle of the Rings, Squalo remembered now.

They had returned to Italy with their tails between their legs-even the all-mighty Xanxus-silently fuming over handing the rings over to a bunch of Japanese middle schoolers, and a few days later Squalo had come down with one _bitch_ of a cold. Fever, aches, cough, the whole nine yards on top of the great white's injuries. It hadn't been fun, to say the least.

The Boss Man could be uncannily shrewd, even if he didn't look it. Squalo had assumed him then too busy brooding over his own issues to take much notice of anything else, but he had been wrong. Not only had Xanxus burst into his room, slapping a thermometer down on the desk with the world's most menacing look, but he had also demonstrated a surprising proficiency in the kitchen.

The soup had been a cure-all, Squalo recalled, even if it smelled worse than Levi's cologne (he liked to think of it- the soup, that is, as The Magic Soup of Odoriferous Things). He could only guess why Xanxus would go out of his way for the Sasagawa woman, and he didn't think it had anything to do with owing Sawada Tsunayoshi. There was a kind of protective nurturing thing going on, somewhere in there, or the Boss Man wouldn't have even bothered with the soup in the first place.

Over the years, whenever one of them got sick Squalo would wonder if The Magic Soup of Odoriferous Things would appear, but it never did. It was somewhat of a relief, judging from the smell, but Squalo couldn't help but wonder where Xanxus had come up with such a bizarre yet effective concoction.

It only took five casa noble tequilas to discover that it was a recipe his mother had taught him.

/

Kyoko blew her nose and folded the tissue afterward, only to look up and find Xanxus himself standing in the doorway. She immediately flushed, wondering how someone so large could have entered so soundlessly. He reminded her of a cat in that sense.

"Good afternoon, Xanxus-san," she said hoarsely as she threw the tissue away, deciding to assure him that her mission would be completed. It was obviously his reason for checking up on her in person. "I'd like to apologize for my behavior last week and hope than we can finish business up soon."

Xanxus said nothing for a minute, but his tawny eyes narrowed at the corners. "You look terrible, woman."

So much for bedside manner. Kyoko smiled and caressed her elbows. "I'm actually feeling a lot better," she chirped (somewhat gravelly), "but thank you for asking, Xanxus-san!"

Xanxus, who was unaware that he had ever inquired such a thing, gave a blank look. Then, clearing his throat, he disappeared through the doorway only to emerge a moment later with a cart on wheels. Kyoko almost guffawed. A wheeling tray. It struck her as something very British; nanny-like, even. She wanted to laugh harder, but knew that it would not be especially professional in the eyes of Xanxus.

There was a bowl of something hot on the tray, milk-white tendrils of steam drifting lazily into the air above. Even through the stuffiness of her nose, Kyoko could smell it well enough. A peculiar scent. Her stomach growled eagerly beneath the sheets. Xanxus did not look like he was going to say anything, so Kyoko pushed, "What is it?"

"Soup."

"What's in it?" Maybe this would get a response consisting of words more than two syllables long.

"Leeks," Xanxus intoned. "Cayenne, oregano, basil leaves. Ramen noodles. Honey and tomato juice."

Again, Kyoko had to bite her cheeks. She wasn't aware that honey and tomato juice went well together (or at least Haru the Cooking Guru had never told her so), but she decided to give the soup a go.

_"AH!"_

Xanxus, who had been on his way out, gave a little jump. It had been a while since anything had physically scared him-the last time being when Levi had dropped their entire set of Guy Degrenne plates- and he turned around, trying not to show his irritation. It was difficult when your face was perpetually darkened into a glower.

He saw the woman staring at him with wide, golden-colored eyes and tried to bite out a question without it sounding too scathing. "What's wrong."

Kyoko licked her spoon and set it down, eyebrows still lost somewhere behind her bangs. "It's so good!"

Xanxus felt his right eyelid give a twitch.

"This is incredible, Xanxus-san," Kyoko went on, staring into her bowl as if she could discern all its secrets if she squinted hard enough. "Did...did you make this?" She met his eye.

Xanxus looked like he had just popped a dozen warheads into his mouth. "...yes."

Kyoko eyed him over her steaming bowl. "I appreciate you going out of your way for me," she said quietly. Her voice was full of praise; "You're very kind." Xanxus only grunted in response.

"The Varia are lucky to have you, Xanxus-san," Kyoko beamed. "And I know now Tsu-kun has people he can rely on."

"Tch." Xanxus made a noise in the back of his throat, although it held less conviction than his usual scoffs and snorts. It took a humongous effort not to say the word "trash" or any other colorful profanities upon hearing Tsunayoshi's name. "Whatever."

Kyoko decided to occupy her mouth with the soup, so as Xanxus-san wouldn't think she was spouting useless appraisals. Because she wasn't, not really. Everything she said she meant, which was one of her best qualities. Tsu-kun and Haru-chan knew it well. And perhaps these boys did too, even if they didn't realize they did.

Seeing as there was nothing more to discuss, Xanxus tossed the feathers at the nape of his hairline over his shoulder and walked out. His step was somewhat lighter than before he had come in, and there were a few less lines creasing his forehead.

But he did not notice these things-and if he did, he thought little of them.

/

Reborn knew many things; singlehandedly operating the intercom system was only one of them. Just because he rarely used it (or got Giannini to set it up for him) did not mean he did not know how.

For the sake of Silly Tsuna's blood pressure, as well as the others', Reborn thought it best that he speak to Shamal alone. He had always been wary of cell phones, since they could be easily bugged, which was why he never carried one. Shamal and Nono had complained about this on several occasions, but Reborn was impossible to expostulate.

"At least_ somebody's_ aware of the time difference. You never sleep, do you, Reborn?"

Cradling a shot of espresso in the dark, Reborn blinked beetle-black eyes at the monitor. The digital clock read 2:10 am, and he gave a small smile. "No, not much anymore."

Shamal sipped idly from his own mug, which probably contained something a little stronger than coffee, and leaned back in his office chair. "I suppose you want to check in on Kyoko-chan?"

"I'm sure Kyoko is fine," Reborn answered, "As for the Varia...well, you could say I'm rather curious."

"Oho! I'm glad somebody other than me has a sense of humor around here."

Reborn heard a distant creak of the floorboards from somewhere upstairs. Probably nothing, but it couldn't hurt to be safe. He switched to Dari, Shamal's native language. "What do you mean, Shamal?"

The doctor grinned. "I visited the estate to check up on Kyoko-chan this afternoon," he began. "She's almost completely recovered and is as sunny as ever, I may add, but the Varia were a strange sight to behold."

"Oh?"

Shamal nodded. "They were actually civil. No screaming, no tantrums, no sailor talk. And that was even after I started teasing them," Shamal added impishly.

Reborn took a sip of his espresso and smiled. "Kyoko did even better than I thought," he commented.

"Will it last?" Shamal inquired. "I kind of miss having to duck from flying lacquer vases."

"No," Reborn admitted, "but they might start to change. With those guys, you never know. I'm still being surprised, even at my age."

"Which everybody there thinks is like, two," Shamal replied, laughing. Reborn rolled his eyes. His silly children, still so oblivious.

Shamal sighed, still smiling. "Kyoko-chan should be returning to Japan either tomorrow or the day after," he concluded. "I almost want you guys to fly out here, just to see how hilarious the Varia are. They're like neutered kittens." He debated. "Sort of."

"Please," Reborn said, now resisting the urge to laugh himself, "using the words 'Vongola' and 'public transportation' in the same sentence is almost as grammatically incorrect as using 'Varia' and 'public transportation.' "

"Good point. Your predictions were correct, as they usually are," Shamal said. "She's almost as charismatic as Tsunayoshi, the dear thing. They go great together."

Reborn couldn't have agreed more. That was the whole reason he had been pushing this match-up for years.

"Thank you for all of your work, Shamal," he tipped the brim of his fedora and set down his mug. Shamal nodded, gave a two-finger salute, and disconnected. Reborn stared at the blank screen for a few minutes longer, relishing in the early morning quiet and the gentle swirl of his thoughts.

"Nn...Reborn?"

It was Lambo, half-asleep and groggy, standing in the doorway. He had outgrown his cow-print jammies a few years ago and now slept in an olive-green tee shirt and sweatpants. Lambo yawned and squinted into the room. Right upon waking, Lambo always spoke in Italian. "I thought I heard...?"

Reborn made the language switch effortlessly in his head. "Go back to sleep, Lambo. I just had to make a call."

The kid smiled sleepily, running a hand through his dark hair. "Everything alright?"

Reborn's blank face masked his affection well. Sure, the kid was usually a pain, but at times he could be thoughtful, compassionate. He had these rare moments that shone through from time to time, surprising anyone who was lucky enough to be around. Reborn had meant what he told Shamal about life still holding hidden wonders.

"Fine," Reborn replied, gathering his cup. Leon curled his tail sleepily around the side of his fedora as Reborn led Lambo back to his room. As for Lambo, he was surprised that Reborn even bothered, but the hit man seemed to be in a strangely good mood for such an early hour.

_to be continued..._


	6. Epilogue

All characters © Amano Akira

_Summary:_ The Varia finally meet someone who they cannot intimidate when a mission takes an unexpected turn.

* * *

><p><em><strong><strong><em>The White Chrysanthemum <em>****_

_Epilogue_

"Those fraudulent bastards," Gokudera crowed, waving the silk pouch containing the Gavani ring, "that's what they get for trying to screw us over!" He grinned triumphantly. "I can't wait to sue the ever-loving shit out of-"

But Tsuna wasn't listening, he being slightly preoccupied with the soft curves of Kyoko's form as they embraced. She smelled faintly of honeydew and grass, as she always did, and Tsuna kissed her gently. "I missed you," he told her quietly, hoping she couldn't tell how worried he had been. But she always could, in the end.

After the initial greetings and welcome home's, Tsuna pulled away and looked over his fianceé. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Kyoko smiled and gently smoothed Tsuna's hair back. "Yes," she assured him. "And I think we have the Varia to thank for that. Such nice boys."

Gokudera scoffed at overhearing this bit. Tsuna tried not to grimace, although he could hardly picture the Varia as "nice boys." Reluctantly, he agreed, "yes, we should send them some token of appreciation. Leave that to me."

"And me, of course," Kyoko added, holding up her finger. "I know what Xanxus-san likes."

"Are we talking about the same thing?" Tsuna asked at the same time Gokudera muttered, "so are you two pen-pals now or something?"

/

Xanxus felt his eyes slipping shut as the sun splashed across his study in golden patches and he listened to Debussy's _La Mer._ It had been a gift from the woman, an old fashioned record wrapped in lace, and it was simply splendid.

"Boss?"

Xanxus slowly opened his eyes. It was rare for his second-in-command to use such a gentle tone upon interrupting him. This could either mean really good news or really bad news. Or, perhaps Squalo was just as entranced by the music as Xanxus was. Either way, Xanxus did not want to be disrupted for much longer. "Good news only, trash."

Squalo grinned, his smile somewhat less feral and more genuine than usual. "I think you'll like this," he said. Xanxus, who had his boots propped up on his desk (which bore similar scuff marks on its rims), planted his feet on the floor and raised his eyebrows.

"Sawada sent another gift," Squalo informed him. "It's downstairs."

Xanxus gave him a pointed look that silently asked why Squalo had not brought it up, which Squalo returned with a blink that said _really?_ A moment later Xanxus saw why Squalo had not bothered; the box had to be about three feet long and looked rather heavy.

He opened the box, picking up one of the three bottles inside and rolling it around in his hands. It was cool to the touch, inviting, and Xanxus smiled at his reflection in it. Maybe, just maybe, it was possible that not everyone in the Vongola were douches.

Squalo whistled, impressed despite himself. "That's some high-quality tequila right there," he observed. Tequila was always good-good for everyone, since it kept Xanxus happy for a while.

"How the _fuck_ did the little brat know I like Blue Agave?"

Squalo shrugged. "Intuition, maybe?"

Xanxus reminded himself to throw a glass of this at Squalo's head later. There were some things you just didn't joke about.

_The End._


End file.
